A writers final farewell
A writers final farewell  pain stories

loremaster Seeker of life’s truths and writing it
Autoplay OFF   •   a year ago
My final story and thoughts, goodbye

A writers final farewell

I have not written on here in some time. I’m not special nor do I expect sympathy. I’m spent, I tried to find reasons to keep suffering but there’s no reason left.

I’m so tired of fighting and trying and thinking how much worse can the worse get. In everyone’s life we face personal hell’s and trials and at some point there is a level we can’t crawl out of anymore. Mine was many events ago.

So I leave with this final entry that describes what I see in my mind. I have closed off almost all ties, definitely most electronic connections. I hope everyone else finds happiness and love, I truly mean that as it is the most precious things in the world and like friends what I’m denied.

I enter my minds room. Heading down stairs I see in front of me no solid walls. The wall to the direct path from the stairs in a hallway with doors, hundreds, thousands!

To the right is a wall of screens, hundreds, each showing events past, present and future. There is no remote and there is no control to all it endlessly shows and haunts me with.

To the left is row after row of book shelves. Full of books filled with my ideas, thoughts, music, stories, lessons learned and harsh reality!

Behind me mirrors reflecting the truth. What I look like inside and out and how I don’t belong of fit in anywhere with anyone.

Today when I enter though all has changed. The hallway of doors is collapsing towards me like a fright train. All those endless possibilities and opportunities slamming shut and vanishing like a blur!

The tv screens are cracked but still at full volume screaming at me everything said to me about how I don’t belong. How hideous I am how I have no reason to be!

The rows of books are rotting and the pages start to crumble and disintegrate as my future and worth pass from existence. Nothing I have done or said or could do would matter to anyone.

The mirrors blacken and distort as they no longer want to show the true me and bear the memory of the loathsome being I am. To the world I have never even been accepted as a living person. I know I won’t be remembered.

I stand in the middle of the room, calm, stoic. Outside the walls a storm of epic proportions rages stronger and stronger!

The flashes of lightning and pounding hellish thunder are deafening. Flames join the cyclone all around my minds room. Parts of mirrors and dust of pages join the wrath the spirals inwards!

I still don’t move, not even blink as the storm caves in towards me. My walls tear apart inch by inch and I start being torn apart by the very materials of my mind.

The only colors I see are black and red and fire and nothingness consumes all I pathetically was. The pain is so sever I no longer feel it as the nerves and neurons burn out by the the thousands as the end nears.

There are no tears, no thought I will be mourned or even remember. I never mattered in life there for no reason to be even a thought in time should be left of me. My only thought...please, please,PLEASE let me end!

Then nothing, I am nothing and never was.

If you read this and I don’t think any well. Don’t pity me, don’t fear for me. For almost 50 years I have been a joke, hated, nothing. There is no hope or help, and if patterns stay the same as they always do, my pleads will go unanswered.

All of you here are special and unique. I wish love, friendship and happiness to all of you!


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